The Caged Bird Sings
by Nightlock Runner
Summary: With the destruction of the Quarter Quell Arena and District 12, war has broken out across Panem. On one side is the Mockingjay - encouraging the downtrodden to rise up against their oppressors. On the other side is her husband - a prisoner of the Capitol. What lengths will each side go to for what they believe in? Katniss must rise above her past mistakes or be crushed by them.
1. Chapter 1 - Descending

**/Some Quick (or not so) Words -**

** Thank-you for all the encouragement and feedback I received for Only If For a Night. I know some people are peeved with the direction I took. So, to those of you not-so-happy... sorry! But... I had a reason! I swear! If you haven't read Only If For a Night, I strongly suggest it, though it isn't necessary. However, this is a continuation of that story. With that... hope you enjoy!**

Katniss -

I'm laying in the sand on my back. The sun is hot on my face, even though I know it isn't real. It's just an illusion, part of the Games. Still, it makes my whole body warm and stretch out lazily. For a few seconds of pleasure, their fantasy will suffice.

I feel his fingers tracing slowly over my knees and my thighs. Soft lips kiss my forehead, making my eyelids flutter. But I don't open them. I just want to enjoy this moment. To feel him laying beside me.

The sand crunches as he sits up. For an instant I want to betray my decision to lay still; but when his hands cup my belly, I let it go. He pulls the band of my shirt up to my chest and I feel his warm breath on my skin as he leans down and places a dozen kisses on my stomach. I raise my hands and rest them over his on the bump - but it isn't there.

My eyes fly open as blinding white light floods my brain. I scream. It hurts so much. A sharp pain that goes in my eyeballs and shoots out the back of my skull. I blink and I try to claw at my eyes, to shield them from the light. I can barely focus, but something isn't right. My fingers are red... my hands are dripping with blood!

Hands wrap around my arms and someone adjusts the sun - no, not the sun - a lamp. I'm being thrust onto my back as I try to wrench away from the pain in my... skull? No. That isn't right either. I don't know what's happening to me.

Where am I?

Where's Peeta?

But no one answers because it's all in my head...

* * *

><p>The dream haunts me each and every time I close my eyes. But still, Gale insists that I try to sleep. I tell him, "I'll sleep when I'm dead" even though part of me is convinced I'm already dead. I may as well be. The Capitol certainly wishes I was. But I've got things left to do.<p>

"You're pushing yourself too hard," Gale scolds me as we make our way onto the Hover-plane - one of District 13's cool toys. He's constantly trying to tell me to slow down and take it easy. They tried to tell me I wasn't fit to be up and about. I told them to get out of my fucking way.

I wasn't going to spend any more time doped up on morphling. I need my senses. Not to numb them. I can't think straight with it. I need a clear head and I need to see it for myself.

My leg bounces up and down as we fly over Panem. The engines are surprisingly quiet - a new stealth prototype that apparently Beate had some hand in. Turns out they knew all along. District 13 - the fabled district that was supposedly wiped out by the Capitol - secretly building up technology and an army underground. Waiting until they finally had reason and motif to act.

I'm not stupid. I know what they're thinking...

The Famous Katniss Everdeen - one of the famous star-crossed lovers from District 12 - who's husband is now a prisoner of the Capitol, and who's darling child was to be the star of Panem... if she'd survived.

Tears collect at the corner of my eyes. Gale tries to hand me a tissue to wipe them but I stubbornly shake my head. Let them see. I don't care. They think being a Symbol of the Rebellion is a great honor. Then let them see what it cost to get me here. Let them share in some of it too because, god knows, I can't bare it all.

"We don't have to do this," Gale says for the hundredth time as the plane begins to descend. A cloud of ash surrounds us like a dust-devil rising up from the ruins of my home.

I shake Gale's hand off of my arm. I know I shouldn't. Gale's done nothing but try to be there for me ever since I came to. I know that, without him, my mother and sister would both be dead and I'd have absolutely nothing. But I can't accept his pity. Not right now. I need the pain. It fuels my anger and my determination.

"I'm not a piece of glass, Gale," I tell him through clenched teeth and prepare to disembark.

My crew are anxiously gathering their cameras and boom-mics as I make my way to the back of the plane. What a rag-tag ensemble we make. But it has to be documented. This is the best way to rally people to our cause. People have to know what happens when the Capitol gets angry at one person. They punish the whole village.

"I was thinking about the script Plutarch wrote," Cressida, my director, informs me as the ramp begins to drop open.

Cressida is always thinking about her work. She's dedicated to making the best "propos" (propoganda videos) anyone's every seen. She's also a tad eccentric with her shaved head and green ivy tattooed into her scalp. She defected from the Capitol, like Plutarch Heavensbee, and she's been dogging my steps since I woke up in the District 13 medical facility. At least her crew - Castor and Pollux - aren't as annoying... minus the cameras and mics.

"It's garbage," I tell her as I brace myself. The doors of the plane have opened fully onto what was District 12. What's left now is little more than ash and soot. The only buildings standing are in the Victor's Village. Like some sick, symbolic gesture that the Capitol is infallible. They choose what goes and what stays.

"Couldn't agree more!" Cressida claps her hands and follows me down the ramp. Castor and Pollux have already begun rolling. "So, I want you to be as open and honest as you can be. Just... say whats on your mind."

My lip twitches into a smirk. Say what's on my mind? ... "You asked for it..."


	2. Chapter 2 - Rising From the Ashes

Gale -

When the world around you erupts in fire - there are two things you can do. You can accept it and let the fire burn you to ash. Or you can wrap the flames around you like a shield and fight back.

I follow several steps behind Katniss and her film crew as they descend from the plane. Dust plumes follow our feet as we walk - kicking up the remnants of buildings, animals and our neighbors. There is little distinction left between what was human and what was building. In the end - it didn't matter. They were all one. They all met the same fate. Burnt to ashes.

The stone foundations of homes and stores is all that marks what was once a village. Still, we follow what we know were the roads. And I know where she's leading us.

Just a few days ago, Peeta appears on the Capitol's broadcast. He looked well and happy - despite what he must be going through. Still, it was our first assurance that he was alive and unharmed. But it was also confirmation of our fears. Peeta is the Capitol's spokesperson. We each have a half of the Star-Crossed Lovers. The people are rising up, but who will they listen to?

Katniss pauses at a hollowed out building in the center of town. All that's left of the kitchen is a black lump of metal that used to be the bread oven. She stands in front of the lump and faces the camera crew. Her face already contorted in pain.

"This was the Mellark Bakery," she tells the crew. "This is all that is left of your home, Peeta. This is what the Capitol does when one person disobeys them. Your family is gone. They didn't make it out, Peeta. I'm sorry."

Tears collect at the corners of her eyes and Katniss tosses back her head - her hair flying away from her face. Her eyes defy anyone to laugh or to even try to comfort her. She wears the pain like a second skin - her soul laid bare for everyone to see. She's beautiful... and terrifying to behold.

"People of Panem. How long must we pay for the past? How long will you allow your children to be sent to the slaughter for Their amusement? Aren't we all human? Don't we all deserve to live and to love without fear? Don't our children deserve to grow up and grow old?

You know me. You know my story. But you don't know all of it. I have sacrificed everything for the sake of their Games and I have paid the ultimate price."

Katniss lays her hands over her stomach and the tears drip down her cheeks as she closes her eyes to steal herself. When she opens them again, the familiar brown eyes have gone still and focused.

"Hope is not in vain. Rise up, Panem. Or the next child to die may be your own."

I want to run to her - to comfort her. Even as Castor and Pollux lower their equipment and Cressida claps her hands commending Katniss on such a performance - I know that my comfort is not what she wants. It's my strength she needs.

So I roll back my shoulders and I shove that urge down. When she moves to my side, I don't wrap an arm around her. I only look down at my friend, this reborn woman, and I give her a curt nod that says, "I know that was painful. Good job, Kat." Because that's what she needs me to do. That's our relationship now.

Katniss -

My body wants to fold in upon itself and sink into the ground; but Gale's eyes lock on mine and they hold me upright. He anchors me back to reality - reminding me that I can't quit. I can't hide myself away from the world or others will suffer the same fate as District 12.

Back on the plane, I buckle myself in and take Gale's hand in mine. He flinches, like I've smacked him across the face; but I hold his hand in mine, pulling it into my lap and wrapping my other around it. Reminding myself that this is reality. He's alive. I'm alive. It reassures me. Peeta is alive... somewhere.

"We have to get him out."

Gale doesn't have to respond. His hand squeezes mine as we take off. I know that Gale will agree with me. As much as he dislikes Peeta, he understands what he sacrificed to get me out. I owe it to him to try to get him back.

"I don't think Coin is going go like that suggestion," he tells me.

President Coin, the head of District 13, is a very pragmatic woman. She's been planing the Rebellion for years - ever since 13 went underground. They've been rebuilding their armory, hampered by one thing... their genetics.

Turns out 13 has had a run of bad luck with maintaining their population. Too many illnesses and not enough outside DNA added back into the pool. They've been all-too happy to have fresh blood in their midst. I've seen the way they look at our people. We're just another tool to them. One to strengthen them.

Well I have news for them. If they want our help - they need to help us.

"She won't have a choice," I tell Gale resolutely as we fly back to our new home.


	3. Chapter 3 - Taking Action

**_/ Sorry, lots going on IRL. Also... I scrambled up events while writing. We're just going to accept that things are different. Cause... it's fanfiction._ **

Katniss -

"You've got a lot of nerve."

"And you need me."

My back stiffens as I stare down President Coin at her own council table. Boggs and Plutarch sit back in their chairs watching the discussion like a heated Tennis Match. Both keen on knowing who the victor will be. I can see the amusement in their eyes.

"I saw the way that your people reacted when they saw Peeta spewing the Capitol's propaganda," I tell her. She wasn't there to hear their cries of anger. It was as though none of them understood who it was they were fighting. If they can believe Peeta is speaking for himself, I'm not sure I'm fighting for the right side. "They were ready to tear the screens from the lunch room walls, President. I want your word that Peeta and the rest of the captured Tributes will be pardoned for their actions. Or I stop shooting your 'propos'."

Plutarch shifts in his seat. He's not at all pleased with the idea of me quitting on him. He's been clawing at me since I arrived in 13, and I've played along because at least they let me get out. But, I'm through being a pawn on their board.  
>President Coin looks up at me with those furious gray eyes of hers. There is no warmth in her voice when she caves. "Anything else?"<p>

"Yes." I hold my head up high. "The Tributes will be rescued at the earliest opportunity, Gale and I get to hunt outside, and Prim gets to keep her cat." From the corner of my eyes, I see Gale smile.

"Is that all, Mrs Mallark?" President's Coin is a snarl.

I take a deep breath for a moment. "I want to be part of the action."

The room erupts.

* * *

><p>Gale -<p>

"Clue me in, Kat?" I request as I lean over to Katniss. The room is still hissing with angry voices. The debate has raged on for twenty minutes straight.

She has that fire in her eyes again. She's a ball of rage with only one thing on her mind - revenge. That look has been on Katniss' face since she awoke in the infirmary. I've seen Katniss when she's determined; but, I've never seen her like this before. She barely sleeps. When she's awake, she's training. Unless she's shooting another propo for Heavensby. She's been itching to get into the action. To pay them back and I can't blame her.

"I'm tired of playing dress up, Gale," she tells me. "How can I inspire the people if I hide behind in District 13? I should be out there with the people."

I shake my head. The girl I knew is gone. The woman next to me is wounded and needs an outlet for her rage. Better them than us...

"I'll be with her," I raise my voice. All heads turn my way. "Katniss is right. What message does it send if she stays behind where it's safe? Asking others to fight in a war she helped fuel? The people need to see the Mockingjay."

"Out of the question," President Coin snarls. "It's too dangerous."

"Katniss has excelled at her training," Boss speaks up despite the murderous gaze Coin throws him. "She's been to every lesson and done everything we've asked of her."

"It would boost morale," Plutarch chimes in. Clearly he has no problem with sending the Mockingjay into battle. "And it would certainly spice up the propos..."

The propos. That man has only one thing on his mind. She could care less if Katniss got blown up in the fight. He'd problem see that as motivation for the people.

"Haymitch?" Katniss calls to the man in the corner who's been quiet through the entire debate.

"I think you're nuts, Sweetheart," Haymitch grumbles. His eyes are bloodshot. He's not taking detox well at all. "I don't think your mother would-"

I can feel the fire coming off of Katniss before she even opens her mouth...

* * *

><p>Katniss -<p>

"So it's alright that I've been sent not once, but twice into an Arena to fight to the death for my life; but I can't join the fight against the people who sent me there?"

The room has grown silent. Every eye is on me. I know what they're thinking. They think I've lost it. And maybe I have. But I can't just sit here and do nothing. Not while people are out there dying because of me. Not while Peeta is a prisoner of the people who wanted us both dead. I can't stay behind anymore.

"Do you think you're doing me a favor by keeping me here?" I stare them down one by one. "You're as bad as them. Using me as a mouth-piece just as HE did. I need to be out there. I need fight."

"You're just a child," President Coin retorts. As if she cares.

My fists slam on the table top. "Call me that again, and you can look for another Mockingjay."

I'm not a child. I haven't been for a long time. The Capitol took that from me years ago. I was a mother...

President Coin rises from her chair, her eyes glowering daggers at me. "It seems you're leaving me no choice, Katniss. Very well. You will have what you've requested."

"All of it?"

"All of it," Coin's mouth twists in fury. I know that it is killing her to cave into me. But Boggs and Heavensby have taken my side. "But understand this, Mrs. Mellark. When you are in the field, you are a soldier. Soldiers follow orders. Boggs will be your commanding officer and I except you to follow his every command or you will be back here in 13 and you'll never see sunlight again... or worse, you'll be dead."

It's not a threat. At least, the last part isn't. It's fact. There is a real war going on outside the walls of District 13. I am heading for the frontline and there are always casualties in war. I don't plan to be one.


	4. Chapter 4 - District 8

Katniss -

The hoverplane only lands long enough to unload our platoon into District 8. We land in a pile of ruins that used to be the command center for the district's rebellion.

"Why are we here?" I ask Boggs as we take cover and the plane ascends back into the sky.

The hoverplane only lands long enough to unload our platoon into District 8. The town is little more than rubble as is. The Capitol planes have been bombing for days - taking out military targets and leaving only a smattering of textile buildings which have been transformed into hospitals. The battle has moved on from here. There's no reason for a platoon to be dropped here of all places.

"The heavy fighting is in five," Gale confirms my suspiscions. They've dropped me into a neutral zone. Far away from the fighting.

I turn on my camera crew who is following close behind. "This is another photo-op?"

"People need your support here as well," Boggs says without the trace of remorse. "This is your first time on the battle field, Katniss, and these people need you as well."

The rage that pulses through my veins quiets as we're joined by a woman who introduces herself as Commander Paylor. She's a rusty colored woman with dark eyes and hair. She looks tired, but strong. A warrior princess in a kingdom of rubble. Something about the joy in her eyes when they see me, quells my anger. I can't be mad at her.

"Katniss Mellark," Paylor clasps my hands and pulls me into a hug. "In the flesh! Come on! Everyone will be so happy to see you! You're just what the Doctor ordered."

Boggs takes lead ahead of us, ensuring our way is clear as we move towards one of the old factories. The moment the door is opened, a gust of putrid air rushes out to greet me. It smells of decay and iron and... there are no kind words in war... shit.

Nearly every inch of floor is covered with a body bag. Someone has thought to leave a path through the center of the ground floor so that people are not tripping over the dead. But it's a horror to behold.

"Is it wise to keep so many dead in one place?" Gale asks as we skirt through the cemetary.

"They'll be moved as soon as we are able. But the dead keep piling up," Pylor's voice is grim as we walk single file to a stair well on the far side. "The wounded are above. The Capitol bombed most of the buildings. We had to take what we could for space."

What I see above is barely better than what is below. The wailing of children and wounded floods my ears as we press upwards. My stomach lurches and heaves as I walk through rows of the sick and injured. No one seems to notice the platoon that's arrived. No one notices me and I am glad, just a bit, until a small girl gets the courage to rise from her blankets on the floor and siezes my hand with her tiny fingers.

"Katniss?" she squeeks as my eyes begin to flood with tears.

My eyes search hers. I see the same pain I've seen everywhere. I see my little sister Prim in her wondering eyes. I see the daughter I lost.

I kneel down beside her, brushing her braids back from her dirt-covered cheeks. There's a lump on her forehead where something blunt has smacked into her. I want to tear down the walls and destroy any man or beast that dared laid hands on this cherubic face. Monsters - all of them.

"Katniss?" My name rings in questions from every corner of the room now. Bodies press in to see me kneeling next to this little girl. Hands touch my shoulders and my back as though touching a piece of the Mockingjay will heal them and renew them. They press in around me, but not to smother - to adore. And their adoration is more than I can bare. I need air.

"We need to move out," Gale's voice calls behind me to Boggs and Paylor. They begin to make a path for me to leave. I almost make it out without cracking; but then I see her.

A woman who must be the same age as myself. Her blonde hair is braided up in ringlets atop her head like my mother used to do. Bright blue eyes stare at me from a rosey face. My eyes take all of her in and I pause dead in my tracks. I'm staring at a woman who could very well have been me. We shared the same fate. Two girls whose names were dropped into a bowl to be read out loud and sent to their death. Two girls who grew up in a world divided and who would only have ever met to kill one another for the Capitol's pleasure. Yet, here we stand - face to face. Tears running down both of our faces.

"The baby?" she asks timidly as I approach her.

I place a hand on the girl's round stomach and shake my head. "She didn't make it." We weep in silence.


End file.
